


Liars in Love

by dettiot



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Swept away for a moment by chance/yeah, we danced and danced and danced</i>.  Starling City, 1985:  Oliver Queen lives uptown and is reluctantly taking his place within his family’s company.  Felicity Smoak lives in the Glades and is ignored because she’s a woman in a man’s world.  When these two meet on the dance floor, everything changes.  1980s Olicity AU.  Title from <i>And We Danced</i> by the Hooters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liars in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here’s the story. I got this idea for a 1980s AU and outlined a multi-chapter fic. I wrote this chapter, and I really liked it. That was in January. Needless to say, the muse has moved on, so I’m declaring amnesty on this fic. So enjoy this and sorry about the cliffhanger. :-)

With a flourish, Felicity slid her latest mix tape into her boombox and hit play. This tape, like all her other mix tapes, featured the same song first: _Dancing with Myself_ by Billy Idol. Because what better song was there for getting ready for a night out? 

Dancing in place, she finished combing her hair, then leaned over the bowl of hot Kool Aid. She had already mixed the grape and strawberry flavor packets together, hoping to get a purpley-pink tint for her blonde hair. She dipped the ends of her hair into the dye and let it sit as she checked her nails for any chips. 

“What color tonight?” asked Sara, one of her roommates, shedding her leather jacket as she swept into the room. 

“Pink and purple,” Felicity said, adding another coat of homemade glitter polish to her nails. “You want to join me?” 

“I’ve got a date,” Sara said, smirking. “With an uptown girl.” 

Felicity groaned as Sara started whistling the Billy Joel song. “You know how I feel about that . . . performer.” 

Sara snickered. “I know. But yeah, no dye tonight. Where are you going?” 

“The place that welcomes me because of my beauty, wealth and social connections,” Felicity said dryly. “In other words . . .” 

“Connor the Dick is gonna sneak you into Rio since he’s still paying you off,” Sara finished. “Cool. Have fun tonight--I’m gonna shower and split.” 

Felicity smiled at her. “Thanks--you, too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” 

“I don’t make promises I won’t keep!” 

Laughing, Felicity let Sara go into the bathroom as she checked on her hair. Deciding she wanted more color, she dunked it back into the Kool Aid and considered what to wear tonight. For January, it wasn’t that cold, and she had a new pair of fishnets. With her tight black leather skirt and her ankle boots, she was all set on the bottom. But up top . . . hmmm. 

Taking the bowl of Kool Aid with her so her hair could keep absorbing color, Felicity looked through her half of the closet she shared with Sara. No, no, why did she still have that top, no, maybe, no--yes!

The bright pink bustier was perfect. Just what she wanted: something in her favorite color that would also get her plenty of attention. Since Connor the Dick was definitely not in the picture anymore and she was ready to have some fun. 

After a long week of work, full of annoyances both petty and huge, she was ready to have a good time tonight. Even if she was on her own, she would have fun at Rio: it had a great dance floor and Connor was good for a few drinks as well as her cover charge. It was Friday night, she was young and damn pretty if she said so herself, and it was only two weeks into the new year. 

Felicity thought that 1985 was going to be a good year. So she turned the music up louder before she went into the kitchen, singing along with Madonna as she rinsed the Kool Aid out of her hair. “Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight . . .”

XXX

The buzz of the cordless phone made Oliver eagerly drop the business section of the _Starling City Examiner_. Yanking out the antenna, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Ollie!”

The voice of his best friend Tommy made Oliver grin. “Hey, Tommy. What’s up?” 

“‘What’s up?’ That’s what you’re asking? You should be saying, ‘I am on my way out the door, ready to party!’” 

And just that fast, his grin was gone. Because Tommy was already drunk, which was a pretty common occurrence lately. It had been like this ever since their fathers had gotten together and decided it was time for their heirs to actually start working, doing an honest day’s work for an honest day’s dollar and a lot of other boring cliches. 

Of course Oliver was annoyed at having to work, but he figured his father kinda had a point. If he was going to take over Queen Financial someday, he should know something about the business. It sucked having to start as a trainee, but at least it’d be easy work.

Tommy, however, was pissed. He had never wanted to work for his dad, but the threat of his allowance being cut off had made Tommy grudgingly agree. But for the last two weeks, Tommy had been dragging Oliver out every night, saying they had to enjoy their last nights of freedom. And the partying was getting out of control. 

“What about last night, with the rubber boat at the zoo in the park?” Oliver asked.

“C’mon, Ollie, stop bein’ such a dweeb! Look, I got the perfect place--it’s downtown, we’ll meet some hot chicks and drink and see what else we can do. No dancing, since--”

“Real men don’t dance,” Oliver said, his lips quirking up as he repeated the one rule he and Tommy always followed. 

The phone crackled, drowning Tommy’s voice in static and Oliver got up, moving closer to the wireless phone base. Reception improved and he could hear Tommy. “--meet me at Rio, okay? It’s at Wilcox and Olympic.” 

“Rio, Wilcox and Olymp--Tommy, that’s in the Glades.” 

“Told you we were going downtown!” Tommy cheered, a leer in his voice as he made it clear he wasn’t just talking about a geographic location. “‘Cause you know Glades girls are freaky.” 

Oliver drew in a breath. He still wasn’t completely over Laurel, his on-again off-again girlfriend of several years. They had decided last month, right before Christmas, to end things for good. She was heading off to law school and neither of them were interested in a long-distance relationship. But he missed her--and he missed having a girlfriend. 

But there was no way he was letting Tommy go out on his own tonight. They wouldn’t get off so lucky tonight as last night, with a misdemeanor trespassing charge and some property damage. Not when Tommy was like this.

“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on,” Oliver said. “I’ll meet you there. What time?” 

“Ollie, didn’t you hear me? Now! I’m already here!” 

Crap. 

“Okay, I’ll get there when I get there,” Oliver said quickly before hanging up the phone. He scooped up his gray jacket and pulled it on, quickly checking himself in the mirror. To his eyes, the oversized suit looked kind of silly--especially with a t-shirt underneath. But it was the style, so Oliver went along with it. At least the t-shirt brought out his eyes. 

And he needed to go. So he scooped up his keys and headed out to catch a cab to the Glades, the neighborhood at the core of Starling City that was like night and day from the ritzy uptown area where he lived. 

XXX

It was still early, not even nine o’clock, but Rio was already buzzing with energy when Felicity slipped in through the back door, propped open for her by Connor. She pulled the door shut and gave her crimped, multi-colored hair a shake as she took in the club. 

The flashing lights and jangly pop music overwhelmed your senses, and then you felt the heat and smelled smoke and sweat and hairspray, and your whole body just got loose. That was how Felicity felt whenever she stepped into a club. Like she was letting herself go so she could just be. She could dance until her makeup ran off her face, she could nurse drinks at the bar and give a cold shoulder to the dweebs who hit on her, she could flirt with the rare man who caught her attention. 

She could be anything here. Anything to anyone. 

Her lips curled up in a smile and she made her way towards the bar, swaying her hips and shimmying around couples and groups on the half-full dance floor. She might even pay for one of her drinks tonight, since Connor did her a solid by getting her in tonight. Or she’d just let him look down her top and remind him what he didn’t have anymore. 

Felicity felt her smile become a smirk as she reached the bar and leaned on it, calling out Connor’s name. Her ex took one look at her, rolled his eyes, and walked over. “We’re done after tonight, right?” he said loudly in her ear.

“Maybe!” she shouted back. “The usual, please?” She gave him a sweet smile and batted her false eyelashes at him. 

“You oughta order a real drink,” he said, even as he got the vodka, Galliano and orange juice. Felicity ignored his usual jibe as she watched him make her drink. Efficiently, he dumped the vodka and orange juice into a glass, added a shot of the herbal liqueur that gave the drink its kick, and garnished it with a straw, an orange slice and extra cherries. He handed it to her, his lips twisted. “Your Harvey Wallbanger, madame.” 

“Thanks, Connor!” she yelled before taking a sip and giving him a thumbs-up. Then she turned her back to him, letting him return to the paying customers as she scoped out the room again. 

Tonight definitely felt like a dancing night. A shake-all-your-troubles-off night. This week had been hellish and she was getting really tired of constantly defending her ability to do her job (a job she was grossly over-qualified for). Whether it was from the executives who didn’t expect a blonde girl to know so much about computers or the sleazes who kept pinching her ass and calling her ‘honey’, it was too much crap for one person to take for five days of the week. 

Maybe she should go back to school, get her graduate degree. Not that a university computer science department was much different from the corporate world, really. And she’d have to go back to broke student living, surviving on ramen and coffee. She’d done that for three years in order to get her bachelor’s, which was two and a half years more of higher education than her mother had. The mother who thought she should be looking for a husband. 

Taking a long slurp through the straw in her drink, Felicity pushed aside the thought of her mother. Pushed aside all those boring, real-life problems. That wasn’t part of who she was tonight. 

The iconic opening chords of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun began playing and Felicity grinned widely. The universe was giving her a sign. Carrying her half-full drink, she moved onto the dance floor and began moving, letting her body sway in time with the music, letting herself get swept away.

XXX

When the cab pulled up at the address for Rio, the cabbie barely gave Oliver enough time to pay and get out before he peeled away from the curb. Oliver frowned and looked around. Sure, the Glades weren’t the best area, but this particular part wasn’t too bad: no boarded-up buildings, not much graffiti, a bit of litter collecting at the mouths of alleys. 

Shrugging, he walked up to the door of Rio and paid the cover charge, then stepped inside, feeling like he was getting assaulted by the noise and the lights and the odors. His scene was more . . . classy. Long wood bars, soft music and lighting, big oversized chairs that you could sink down into--especially with an elegant, hot brunette sitting on your knee. 

_You need to get over this_ , Oliver reminded himself. _You don’t really miss Laurel--you miss the idea of her_. 

Rather than stand there like a square, all lost in his thoughts, Oliver took a few steps as he looked for Tommy. It certainly seemed like a good nightclub at least, if the crowd was anything to judge by. Plenty of attractive girls were on the dance floor, and the bar was packed. A drink sounded good, so he swung by there and got a bottle of Michelob before resuming the search for Tommy. 

Finally, he spotted him, in a small half-moon-shaped booth across the dance floor. There were two girls sitting on one side of Tommy and plenty of glasses in front of them--empty glasses. Oliver took a deep breath and began crossing the dance floor. He felt awkward as he moved, stepping this way and that to get past people, but he stayed focused on his goal. 

When he got closer, he realized that Tommy was at his ‘flirt with anything that moves’ point. Because he had turned his back on the girls sitting beside him to lean on one elbow, eyeing the dance floor with a predatory look in his eyes. 

With a sigh, Oliver slid into the booth. “Here I am, Tommy.” 

Tommy looked at him and grinned widely. “Ollie! About time.” He pointed at the bottle of beer in Oliver’s hand. “You’re gonna need, like, twelve of those to catch up with us. Me and the girls have been drinkin’ for an hour. This is Lisa and this is Kim. Girls, this is Ollie.” 

Both women gave him come-hither smiles. Oliver smiled and nodded to each of them before leaning forward towards Tommy. “Tommy, maybe you want to slow down a bit?” 

“Nah. This is our last Friday of freedom, Ollie! Why would I wanna slow down?” Tommy said, his forehead wrinkled in drunken confusion. “Now get a real drink and--damn, check out the ass on that blonde!” 

Oliver threw a look over his shoulder, barely glancing in the direction Tommy was pointing, before turning back to him. “Maybe we could do something different. Go to the beach house for the rest of the weekend?” 

“In January, Ollie?” Tommy looked at him with annoyance. “Man, why d’you even bother comin’ out with me if you don’t wanna have fun?” 

Before Oliver could respond, Tommy got out of the booth, moving past Oliver’s outstretched arm, and took a few steps forward. “Hey, baby, buy you a drink?” 

XXX

“Hey, baby, buy you a drink?” 

The drunken voice and the nearly-audible leer made Felicity roll her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing two guys--one dark-haired, one with dirty blond hair--looking at her. The dark-haired guy was the one who called out to her, she’d bet. He was swaying a little on his feet, but not in a kinda-dancing-to-the-music way. More a three-sheets-to-the-wind-at-barely-ten-pm way. 

She held up her second Harvey Wallbanger, which was two-thirds full, and raised an eyebrow. “No need. Have a good night.” 

“Awww, don’t be like that,” the drunk said, stepping closer to her. His friend immediately followed him, looking ready to step in. Felicity flicked her gaze to his for a split-second, just long enough to notice bright blue eyes, before focusing back on the drunk guy. He probably thought he was being very charming, but Felicity was anything but charmed. 

Especially when he opened his mouth and said, “You are so hot. Like Debbie Harry hot.” 

Felicity blinked. “Debbie Harry is ancient. Seriously, she’s, like, forty. Thanks for thinking I’m as hot as a forty-year-old. Plus, it should be clear that I am not a Blondie fan in any way.” She gestured to her clothes and then immediately regretted it, because it made the drunk run his eyes over her slowly. As did his friend, although a lot quicker and with a bit more subtlety. 

“Whatever--you’re hot.” Like all drunks, this guy had the stubborn single-mindedness that wouldn’t let him be put off easily. And Felicity wasn’t bored enough to play around with him. No, she wanted to cut him down to size and get back to her drinking and dancing.

“Tommy,” his friend said, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him back a bit. “Why don’t you go back to the table--Lisa and Kim look lonely. I’ll get us another round.” 

The now-named Tommy looked at his friend and beamed. “You’re the best, Ollie.” Then he weaved his way back to a booth and plopped down next to a catty-looking brunette and an obviously-dyed redhead. Not that Felicity had any room to talk when it came to hair, but still. 

She looked up at Ollie--what a crappy name--and quirked an eyebrow. “The last thing your friend needs is another round.” 

“I know,” he said, leaning down to speak in her ear. It was hard to tell over the music, but he seemed to have a nice voice. “But by the time I go back over there, he won’t remember I said I was gonna do that.” 

“Ahh,” she said, for lack of anything better to say. She started to move away, but then Ollie lightly touched her elbow and she stopped dead in her tracks. Because . . . it was weird to feel a little jolt of electricity at some random guy touching her elbow. 

“I--I just want to apologize for Tommy. I hope he didn’t scare you,” Ollie said, leaning back in towards her and making her feel very short. Her booties had four-inch heels, but he still towered over her. 

Her eyebrows felt like they had reached her hairline. Because she didn’t expect an apology. If anything, she kinda thought Ollie would try to finish what his friend had started before getting distracted. 

“No problem, Ollie--he’s not the first drunk I’ve ever dealt with.” 

“It’s Oliver, actually,” he said. 

Oliver, huh? Felicity took a good, long look at him for the first time. His hair was a bit tragic, flopping all over the good bone structure of his face--it was a shame he was hiding the pretty like that. He was wearing an equally tragic Miami Vice-style suit, but his t-shirt was tight and looked to be nearly the same color of his eyes. 

In short, definitely attractive and not the type who showed up at Rio. With his fancy name, Felicity would bet he was slumming. And she wasn’t a downtown princess looking to get saved by the rich uptown prince. 

But . . . he apologized. Sincerely. And one of her favorite songs has started playing. And suddenly tonight had started looking up. 

“You wanna dance, Oliver?” 

XXX

Without waiting for an answer, the girl--no, the woman, she had curves in all the right places, curves that made her seem like a woman to Oliver--grabbed his arm and pulled him farther away from the booth, into the mass of bodies on the dance floor. 

He should be making excuses. Trying to get her to just come back to the booth, or asking what her name was, trying to talk to her--although he already felt like he was on the verge of losing his voice with talking over the loud music. 

Because he didn’t dance. 

But then she started to move and Oliver realized he didn’t want her to stop. 

This woman wasn’t his type at all. Her hair was a bunch of different colors: brown at the roots, blonde in-between, and a ghastly pink-purple on the ends. She was wearing a tight pink bustier, which, okay, was very hot, even with all the long beaded necklaces masking some of the cleavage on display. And Tommy was right about one thing: her ass was something, especially in that tight skirt. 

Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t realize he was just staring at her without moving. But then they popped open and she was looking right at him. There was a wrinkle between her pretty blue eyes and she was frowning, and he didn’t like that look. 

Oliver didn’t understand this, but he moved towards her, resting a hand lightly on her hip. “I don’t dance. Not normally.” 

“Maybe tonight you shouldn’t be normal, then,” she said, flashing a bright smile at him. She stepped in towards him, reaching up to drape her arm on top of his shoulder, her hand almost brushing against the nape of his neck. “Just move, Oliver.” 

_God, she’s like a siren_ , he thought hazily, staring at her very pink lips. And then he was moving, feeling kind of stiff, especially when compared to the fluid way she moved her body, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

Her fingers kept almost touching the back of his neck, and he took a step towards her, closing a little bit of the gap between them. That caught her attention, making her previously half-closed eyes widen a bit and lock onto his. 

Oliver wasn’t sure if he had ever experienced a moment as intimate as this: looking into this unexpected woman’s eyes as he danced with her. He was pretty sure he’s not at all in time with the music, and he felt awkward as hell, but . . . but that didn’t seem to matter that much. 

He was _dancing_ with this woman and he never wanted to stop. Because there was all this heat and electricity and nothing had ever felt like this.

XXX

Jesus, he was a bad dancer. No man that hot should move so woodenly. Because the more she was around Oliver, the hotter he got. Which shouldn’t happen: a hot guy shouldn’t get hotter while being so crappy at dancing. 

Maybe it was because he was so clearly trying to follow her lead, mimicking her in a way that made her feel way more powerful than she ever had before. She had never met a man who gave up his control like Oliver did to her. She could see why he didn’t dance normally, but it was God damn adorable to see him doing it anyway. 

It made her want to know more about him. To see if he could keep surprising her. Because Felicity had lived in Starling City for four years now, and she had spent as many hours in clubs and bars as she had studying and working. And no one that she met in the club scene surprised her this much in such a short period of time. 

Her mouth was dry, so Felicity took a swallow from her Harvey Wallbanger. That made Oliver seemingly remember he had a bottle of beer in his hand, and he lifted it up to drink. Watching his Adam’s apple bob, she had the strongest desire to lean in and kiss his throat, but Felicity held back. That would be rushing things to the max, and she wasn’t ready to skip to the end just yet. 

One song bled into the next and they kept dancing. Oliver didn’t move his hand from her hip, didn’t grip her so hard she couldn’t get away if she wanted. He was a gentleman. Although the way his eyes kept flicking down to her chest kinda promised he wasn’t a gentleman all the time. 

Felicity gave herself a shake. She was too much in her head, thinking too much. And she didn’t like to think on the dance floor. It made her forget she was just playing a part right now, made it hard to hold back the babble she always let out when she got nervous or flustered. Even with only a drink and a half in her belly, she can feel the words on the tip of her tongue, wanting to come out. To start asking Oliver all the questions forever. 

The music currently playing had a low, throbbing beat. She wanted to get lost in moving, in just how her body felt, instead of figuring out a way to get that stupid jacket off Oliver and ask him what he liked to do for fun. Her hand moved to his shoulder, then drifted down his arm. He stopped moving for a moment, looking confused. She got a glimpse of his eyes going wide as she turned and moved back against him. 

His hand was now gripping her hip tighter than before. She smirked just a little at this sign of his slipping control, and she lifted one arm over her head. She was all set to put her hand on the back of his neck and play with the strands of hair there, but he pushed her arm away. 

When he handed her his bottle of beer, she nearly turned around to splutter ‘what the hell?’ at him. But then his now-free hand was holding her other hip, and she can feel his face against the top of her head, his nose brushing against her hair, and holy shit, he was moving her hips and letting his crotch brush against her ass and where the hell was this coming from?

Any chance of her overanalyzing this to death was now completely shot, because yeah, he’s still kinda jerky and off the beat, but that does not matter at all with how he’s moving her body and moving his own and damn, this felt good . . . 

Thinking was the last thing she wanted to do now. Felicity closed her eyes and let go, just to see what happened.

XXX

He had no idea what had gotten into him. And even more than that, he had no idea why she was letting him do this. Letting him take charge when he was such a bad dancer. But she was, and it was so damn hot he was worried he might explode. 

This woman was amazing. He felt like they had complete conversations just looking into each other’s eyes, and it was turning him on so much. But the craving that his body felt--the craving that he was letting himself satisfy by pressing up against her frankly incredible body--was nothing compared to the questions in his head. 

What was her name? Where did she live? What did she do--was she a student or did she have a job someplace? What did she like to do, what music did she listen to, was she a reader or did she watch TV late at night with the lights off or did she cook? 

Oliver had never felt such a desire to know someone. So many of the people in his life, he had known forever. There was nothing different, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to discover. Not like this woman who seemed to take what she wanted while giving just as much in return. 

Whatever was happening right now, he was going to soak up every single moment, because he felt alive like he never had before. 

Leaning down so his lips were right beside her ear, he spoke as quietly as he could. Wanting to keep this between just the two of them. “What’s your name?” 

She jerked against him when he spoke, her ass pressing back against him, and he bit his lip to hold back his groan. “W-what? Oh. Felicity.” 

“What?” he said, not sure he heard her right. 

Her head turned, looking up at him with wide eyes the color of the sky. “My name’s Felicity.” 

Felicity. It was an unusual name . . . unique. Like her. He smiled at her. “I like it.” 

Her lips pursed and she gave him an unimpressed look. “Thanks,” she said dryly. “Ollie.” 

Laughing, he stepped around her to face her, his hands trailing along her waist and then settling back over her hips. “I wish it wasn’t my nickname, believe me.” 

Felicity nudged his beer bottle against his hand and he took it, then felt his heart pound when she slid her free hand past his jacket and put her hand on his waist. He was pretty sure her fingers were burning through his clothes, from the way he could feel her touch through the layers of fabric. “Then why do you let people call you that?” she asked, looking up at him. 

Instead of making a flippant comment, he actually stopped to think about her question. Then he shrugged. “I guess it’s just easier.” 

Her eyes narrowed a little, and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but before she could say anything, someone knocked into Felicity, sending her right into his arms. 

And Oliver took a deep breath at the feel of her, pressed against his chest and other parts of him, and when he did, he’s sure he can smell her over all the other scents in the club, and it short-circuited his brain. And those other parts, too.

XXX

_Oh my God_. 

That was the only thought going through Felicity’s head when she found herself pressed up against Oliver. Because . . . _oh my God_. He clearly worked out, if the firmness of his chest and belly are anything to judge by. 

And the firmness below his belt buckle spoke well of him, too.

Felicity wasn’t a shrinking violet. There had been one-night stands and a few flings in her past. She didn’t see anything wrong with taking a guy home for the night. But she had never reacted to any man like the way she was reacting to Oliver. 

“Oh, wow, you’re firm,” she said, looking up at him, needing to crane her neck. His eyes are wide and dark, his mouth was hanging open a little, and she could feel him breathing harder. “Really firm.” 

Her face was probably the same shade as her bustier right now, but oh my God, seriously? How was this even happening? How did this good not-so-little rich boy end up in the Glades tonight, in this club, dancing with her? 

She didn’t know. All she knew was she wanted to climb him like a tree. 

Oliver took in a deep breath and she watched his lips move as he worked his mouth, as if he was trying to figure out what to say. “Felicity?” 

“Yeah, Oliver?” she said, not moving away from him. Really wishing she had gotten that jacket off him now, so she could check out his arms--she bet they were rad, too. 

“I--I probably should go check on Tommy . . .” 

It’s gotta be the last thing he wanted to do. She could tell from the way he stuttered, from the regret in his voice. But more than that, it was the way he was looking at her. Like he fully expected her to disappear when he walked away. 

To be honest, it was flattering to have him look at her like she was something out of a dream. But it was also really infuriating. And also kinda sad. Because what the hell had happened to him to make him think he couldn’t get what he wanted? When he was gorgeous and rich and not a dick? 

It’s not pity. It’s curiosity. And it was about wanting to see what would happen when he stopped worrying about what he should do and did what he wanted to do. 

Felicity leaned up onto her tiptoes, using one hand on his shoulder to keep herself steady as she spoke into his ear. “You should do that. But after that . . . you could come with me. Someplace more private.” 

XXX

Having a throbbing hard-on must be making him hear the things that he wanted to hear. Because he was pretty sure Felicity just said something about going someplace private?

He blinked at her, and she gave him a small, saucy grin. But as he kept staring, feeling completely speechless, her smile faded a little and she lowered herself down. “Or not,” she said, her smile looking pasted-on. 

When she took a step back from him, Oliver felt like his brain finally started working again. “Really?” 

Felicity quirked an eyebrow at him. “You have to ask that? Looking like this?” She gestured wildly at him. “Even in that stupid suit, you’re hot. So what’s it gonna be, Oliver?” 

God, this was crazy. Because he thought he had matured past one-night stands. Sure, there was college, and those times when he and Laurel were off, but it had been nearly a year since he had been tempted to just go home with a woman. 

Tonight, he was more than tempted. He was determined. Because if Felicity wanted him, there was no way in hell he was going to pass this up. 

Oliver slid a hand into her hair, looking into her eyes. “Give me five minutes.” 

Her face lit up and it was like starlight. “Go down the hall to the bathrooms and turn left at the first intersection. I’ll meet you there.” She reached up on her toes and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a not-quite kiss that left him hungry for the real thing. But before he could do anything, she pulled away and dashed off. 

No red-blooded man wouldn’t watch her go, so Oliver did just that. Then he turned to find Tommy, feeling just a moment of annoyance. But the anticipation of what was about to happen with Felicity drowned all that out. 

Thankfully, Tommy was still in the booth, and even better, Carter Bowen was sitting across from him. Normally, Oliver thought Carter was the world’s biggest kiss-ass, but tonight he was perfect. Because Carter was the perfect babysitter.

“Tommy,” Oliver said, leaning down towards his friend, “how ya doing?” 

XXX

While she waited, Felicity fiddled with her clothes, making sure that her necklaces were all hanging down her front and hadn’t migrated around to her back. She adjusted the bow that held back her crimped hair and checked the small purse she kept tucked into a garter, high on her thigh. It had her cash, her apartment key, and a condom: just what a girl needed for a night out. Even though she was on the pill, she believed in being careful, especially with strangers. 

Although . . . 

_No, Felicity_ , she told herself firmly. _No bareback tonight_. Oliver seemed like the type who wouldn’t want to risk any accidents. 

Plus, it would give her a chance to feel him up a little. 

Letting out a giggle, Felicity looked down the dimly-lit hall. She had chosen this spot because it was close to the back door, giving them an easy way out of Rio. Yeah, it was drafty and there was a distinct smell of pee, but she was pretty sure Oliver would help blot all that out. 

God, she was so ready for this. For him. Part of her thought she was getting carried away, because what were the chances a guy so bad at dancing would be good at sex? But maybe it could happen. And it wasn’t like he didn’t turn her on.

It had been more than five minutes and she felt the first inkling of doubt when suddenly, Oliver turned the corner and spotted her. She felt her body tremble, just a little, at the look in his eyes. Because he looked hungry. 

He moved towards her, her name falling from his lips. And then his hands were in her hair and he was kissing her. 

_Whoa_. 

Felicity closed her eyes, grasping his forearms in order to stay steady. No longer worried about the sex they were about to have, because this man knew how to kiss. Like, seriously. He didn’t just jam his tongue into her mouth--she felt like she was being wooed. 

Her hands ran up his arms and then went under the lapels of his suit jacket, stroking his collarbone. He let up this happy little noise against her lips and pressed against her, and Felicity moaned. 

“Oliver . . .” 

“Yes,” he muttered, his hands now moving, falling to her shoulders, then running down her sides to her hips. But unlike before, he didn’t keep them there. No, now he ran them down to cup her ass and tilt her pelvis up a little, and she grabbed handfuls of his t-shirt so her knees wouldn’t give out. 

And then he rocked right against her core and her vision whited out and Felicity knew this was the best decision she had ever made. 

XXX

He would never know why Felicity had noticed him. Why she had picked him tonight. But right now, with his hands holding her against him, kissing her hungrily, feeling her tremble--he felt so lucky. 

So damn lucky. 

And he wanted more than this. More than a quick screw against the wall. He wanted all night. He might be a bad dancer, but Oliver knew he could make this good for her. No, great, better than great--he wanted to make this the best night of her life. And he couldn’t do that by taking her in this hallway.

“Felicity--Felicity, wait,” he said, breathing hard as he pulled back from her. 

Even in the dim lighting, he could see how affected she was by him. Her eyes were huge and dark, her skin was flushed from contact with his stubble, and her lips were a pale pink, her lipstick totally gone. 

She was even more beautiful now. But she looked very confused. “Why . . . don’t stop.” 

“I don’t wanna--but, but I think we could do better than here.” He reached out, stroking her hair. 

“I’ve got a condom,” she said, moving close to him. Her hands stroked his chest slowly, drifting down towards his waist. 

“Felicity,” he gulped, grabbing her hands and pulling them off him. “I’ve got a great bed--an awesome bed--in my apartment. I’d really like to see you in it.” 

A slow smile appeared on her face. “Yeah?” 

Oliver nodded. “Yeah.” He grinned at her and laced his fingers through those on one of her hands. “And I have condoms. Lots of condoms.” 

She giggled softly, something that shouldn’t be sexy but was. “You had me at awesome bed, but the condoms definitely help.” Leaning up on her toes, she kissed him quickly. “Let’s go.” 

Tugging on his hand, Felicity pulled him towards a door he hadn’t noticed at the far end of the hall. She pushed it open and led him out onto the street, the cold air raising immediate goosebumps over her bare shoulders.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it around her. Oversized even on him, the jacket completely swamped Felicity. But it also made him smile, to see her in his clothes, her hand in his. 

And the way her eyes ran over him made him not miss the jacket at all. She grinned and turned towards the street, lifting her free hand to her lips. An ear-piercing whistle erupted and Oliver couldn’t help laughing. 

“Of course you can do that.” 

“How else do you think a girl gets a cab in the Glades?” Felicity asked, giving him a wink as a yellow taxi pulled up in front of them. 

Oliver pulled open the door of the cab for her, watching as she slid inside, before he joined her. He told the driver his address and then wrapped his arms around Felicity, kissing her slowly. 

XXX

If she thought Oliver had surprised her before, it was nothing compared to what had happened since she had challenged him to come with her. The very hot make-out session? Inviting her back to his place? Slowing them down in the cab with long, deep kisses that she could feel in her toes, even as his fingers kept stroking her knee and playing with her fishnets? 

If she didn’t have something better to do with her mouth, it would be hanging open as she stared at him. Wondering who this man was. 

But when she saw his apartment, her mouth really did fall open. It was like something out of a magazine: all glass walls and white carpet, with upholstered furniture in gray and accent pieces in rich emerald green. It was all so . . . masculine. And very, very rich. 

“Wow,” she said, looking around. “I feel like I should take my shoes off in here.” 

Oliver laughed and lifted her up, holding her a few inches above the ground. She let out a half-gasp, half-squeal and held on to him. “Or I could carry you.” 

Felicity rested her forehead against his, looking into his altogether-too-pretty eyes. “Or I could take off all my clothes.” 

“You’re a genius,” he said breathily. 

Oh, he was just . . . Felicity pushed his hair back and smiled at him. This was so unexpected. To feel this sweet tenderness towards a man who was just a one-night stand. Because she knew in the morning she’d leave and they’d each go back to their normal lives. And never the twain would meet. 

But tomorrow morning was still very far away, and she had so much that she wanted to do with him. So she leaned in and kissed him, sucking on his lower lip. 

Oliver sighed against her lips and she could feel him carrying her someplace, but she didn’t stop kissing him. Not until he laid her down on a bed that did feel pretty awesome. But she bet it would be even better with him in it. But first . . . 

Her hands slid down his torso until they reached the waistband of his pants. She felt him still and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Patience, Oliver.” 

“I can if you can,” he said, his fingers slipping under her strings of beads to stroke her shoulders and collarbone, making her shiver. His hands were so big and warm . . . 

And she wouldn’t let him distract her like this. Felicity tugged roughly on his t-shirt, drawing it from his pants and then lifting it up and over his head. He helped her, tossing aside the piece of clothing once it was removed, but by then Felicity had totally forgotten about the existence of his shirt. 

He was like a statue. That was all she could think as she took in just how defined his chest and stomach was. She almost didn’t want to touch him, in case she was dreaming. 

But this was way too vivid to be a dream.

She touched the center of his chest, her fingers slowly trailing down, bumping over each ridge of his abdominal muscles until she got to his belt. She looked up at him, feeling her skin heat up at how he was looking at her. And then she tucked her fingers into his pants, taking hold of him by his belt, and drew him down to kiss her. 

XXX

At this moment, the only thought in Oliver’s head was _must get clothes off now_. 

Felicity seemed to have the same thought, because she was fumbling with his belt as she kissed him, only to stop when he couldn’t figure out how to get her top off. Because there were these weird hooks and a strap and--

“Here--let me--take your pants off,” Felicity said, panting and giggling at the same time. She pushed him back a little and arched up, reaching beneath her to undo her bustier. Oliver lifted up the necklaces from around her neck, his fingers stroking the tops of her breasts.

“Pants!” she said, pouting up at him. 

Oliver laughed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, lifting up to push his pants and briefs down, before reaching for Felicity’s skirt. 

And then they were naked, and they were kissing and rolling around on his bed, and Oliver felt his mind going blank. All that was left was sensations. The softness of Felicity’s skin, the blue of her eyes, her soft breathy gasps as he touched her. How her fingers felt against his stomach and hips, the sweat that rolled down his back, and then he was sliding inside her and--

He groaned, jerked back into his body, back into his mind. But this felt so damn amazing, he wanted to remember every second. 

Felicity’s hair was spread out over his sheets, and it didn’t look too-bright anymore. It looked perfect. Just like how she felt, all warm and tight and . . . God, he was too close. 

“Felicity,” he whispered, pressing his face against her neck for a moment as he tried to collect himself. But his hips had another idea, rolling slowly against her in one unbroken wave of movement.

“Just like that,” she said, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Oliver, don’t stop--yes, yes--ohhhh . . .”

The way she was talking made him feel even less in control. He gritted his teeth and moved faster, and she got louder and her whole body went pink and then something happened, a flutter that moved along his dick and--

With a groan, Oliver came, slumping down against her, trying to catch his breath and not crush her and wondering if he could get her to stay for the rest of the night. 

Because he wanted more. 

“Ooomph . . .” she said, her hands stroking over his shoulders and back. “Mmmm . . .” 

Huffing out an embarrassed laugh, he kissed her temple and turned them onto their sides. He looked at her, taking in the way she breathed slowly, the utter contentment on her face. 

“Sleep now, more sex later,” she muttered, curling in against him.

Oliver nodded, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah.” 

She opened her eyes for a moment to look up at him. And then she smiled so brightly at him that he didn’t know how he was going to sleep. 

But soon he was drifting off, feeling the effects of the best sex of his life with the powerful, unexpected emotional connection they had. And right before he fell asleep, he tightened his arm around her and pulled her in even closer to him.

XXX

Dawn had just begun breaking through the floor-to-ceiling windows when Felicity woke up. She squinted a little and rolled away from the light, coming face to face with Oliver. Well, more face to chest. 

She took a deep breath, savoring the spicy cologne that still clung to Oliver’s skin, then looked up at his face. He was still asleep, his lips softly parted and his face utterly relaxed. 

And it was time for her to go. 

Shifting carefully, Felicity slid out from underneath his arm, feeling thankful as she realized he was a heavy sleeper. 

It might not have been a traditional one-night stand. She had stayed the whole night after all--a fact she was very happy about after rounds two and three. Oliver had stamina. Stamina and a quiet charm, even with his floppy hair. And for a moment, Felicity considered staying. For round four, for breakfast, for--

But it was morning, and that meant it was time to go. 

After a stop in the bathroom, she gathered her clothing and started getting dressed. Felicity sighed a little at how out-of-place her bustier looked now, in the light of day. When she spotted Oliver’s t-shirt on the floor, she pursed her lips, then reached down and pulled it on. At least she was more covered up now. 

With her booties in her hand, Felicity edged quietly towards the door. But for some reason, she paused and looked back at Oliver. 

Last night had been amazing. She had never felt such instant chemistry with someone. And she certainly hadn’t expected to be treated like Oliver treated her. Like she was . . . special. Not some girl from Vegas with a cocktail waitress mom, a girl who put up with pinches and belittlement in order to pay her dues. 

Why was she lingering like this? She knew the rules. She knew how this worked. And she had already broken one of the rules: don’t spend the night. Because then it was too easy to stay for breakfast, and then it would just get awkward. And Felicity Smoak had too much experience with accidental awkward situations to let herself walk into one with her eyes open. 

When Oliver stirred, it made Felicity whirl around and leave, her feet padding softly against the carpet. She waited until she was outside his apartment to put on her booties, jamming her feet into them quickly. And then she hightailed it for the elevator.

The air was cold when she walked out of the highrise building, looking around for a cab. But at this time of day, the streets were deserted. With a small sigh, she squared her shoulders and started walking. There was a subway station a few blocks away. It would take two transfers, but it would get her home. 

And right now, she just wanted to go home. Curl up in her bed and get some more sleep, enjoy the rest of her weekend before she started the grind all over again on Monday morning. 

Her feet felt heavy the farther she walked. But Felicity refused to admit the reason why.

XXX

Holding a cup of black coffee and glancing at the piece of paper in his other hand, Oliver walked through the halls of Queen Financial. He was searching for the conference room where the trainee stockbrokers like him would be meeting this morning. 

It was a rainy and cold day, the brief weekend warm snap having ended last night. Which seemed fitting to Oliver. Ever since he had woken up on Saturday morning, alone, he had been feeling colder than normal.

Oliver knew that wasn’t how he should be reacting. It had been a fling--one night with a beautiful, captivating woman. Nothing more. If it was supposed to be more, Felicity wouldn’t have sneaked out in the morning, leaving him without any way to call her. 

But he couldn’t help worrying about her. The doorman said she had just left, without asking for help getting a cab. How had she gotten home? The Glades wasn’t the best neighborhood, even in the daylight. And someone who looked like Felicity was bound to attract the wrong kind of attention. 

Only the fact that she had taken his shirt gave him some comfort. Because it would cover her up and give her some warmth. And . . . because she had taken a piece of him with her. 

Oliver pursed his lips and gave his head a shake. He had to focus. It was his first day, and just because his family’s name was on the building didn’t mean he wanted to be late. He wanted to give this an honest try. Because in the three years since he had graduated from college, three years of just drifting from party to party, he was feeling . . . unsatisfied. Ready to actually do something with his life. Yeah, being a stockbroker wasn’t that interesting to him, but it made his parents happy. And without any better options, why not?

Smoothing a hand down his gray double-breasted suit, Oliver finally had to admit he was lost. He had wandered into a department filled with desks and storage cabinets, with dim lighting and a soft hum filling the large room. The room was very warm--warm enough that he wanted to loosen his tie to get some relief. He blinked when he realized why the room was so warm: there was a giant computer at one end, like something out of a movie with its blinking lights and tape drives.

Intrigued, Oliver walked towards the computer, looking around for anyone who could tell him where the conference room was. But it seemed like the people who worked in this department must be on a different schedule, since the place was deserted. 

Then he heard someone speaking--perhaps on the other side of the computer? He picked up his pace, moving past a bunch of tall boxes that looked like free-standing closets to him. 

“Excuse me, could you tell me where I am? I’m looking for the--” he started asking as he turned, only for his words to vanish. He could only stare at what he saw before him.

Or, to be more accurate, who.

Because the person he had heard talking was Felicity. Felicity, with her hair pulled back in a curly ponytail and wearing glasses. Felicity, in a pink button-down shirt and a black skirt and flat shoes. 

_Felicity_.

And if he was surprised to see her, she looked completely shocked to see him.

End.


End file.
